The Seduction of Katniss
by RichardJ
Summary: An unscheduled stop during the 74th Hunger Games Victory Tour puts Katniss Everdeen in danger. Alone and afraid she must face the consequences of being a Hunger Games victor. Her one ally has an agenda of his own and as a result Katniss may never be the same girl again. A six part M-rated story.
1. The unscheduled stop

Suzanne Collins is acknowledged as the creator of the Hunger Games characters and story.

Part 1 – Boulder Creek township, District 5

As my legs start to cramp I realise this is a ridiculous hiding place. But it was the only place I could reach in the few seconds I had available. The screams and shouts that followed my desperate act confirmed my intuition to hide. One minute I'm enjoying a warm shower in my hotel room before turning in for the night; the next I'm thrown to the floor as the explosion outside shakes the very foundations of the hotel. The main lights go out and the tiny emergency light comes on after a brief moment of darkness. The emergency light can only manage a dim glow and leaves large pools of shadow.

Hindsight tells me I should have found a good hiding place immediately. But of course I didn't. Instead I wrap my towel around me and go to find Effie Trinket. By rights Effie, as Peeta and my escort on this 74th Hunger Games Victory Tour, should be near at hand. Her room is two doors down the corridor from mine. Since no men are permitted on this floor of the hotel, she is both my guardian and guard tonight. Not that I appreciated having her constantly watching over me all evening and I don't doubt my sullenness has angered her.

But just when I need her nearby I discover she's not in her room. I'm not suitably dressed to go downstairs to the lounge and I resign myself to going back to my room to quickly dry myself and get dressed. But I have barely given up my search for Effie when I sense something is wrong. Seriously wrong. How do I know? I'm not certain … a hunter's instinct? A survivor's intuition?

I duck into the small room between Effie's and mine. Effie told me this room would normally be used for a maid travelling with her mistress. That way the maid would be close at hand to perform whatever tasks might be required of her. Compared to my well appointed room this is basic in the extreme. I dive into the wardrobe pushing aside the clothes hanging there.

I've barely closed the door when shots ring out. They're not the unmistakable sound of the peacekeepers' laser weapons but the explosive rattle of firearms. Since possession of firearms is illegal in Panem, it must be an attack by anti-government rebels. The very sort of group President Snow unfairly accuses me of inciting to cause trouble.

The brief spell of shooting is replaced by shouts and the sound of people running to and fro, both inside and outside the hotel. A few minutes later I hear someone in the corridor.

"Everyone downstairs," comes an order from an unknown woman as she runs along the corridor. I can hear her repeat the order further along the corridor. Do I comply? I waste several seconds weighing my options before deciding I'll do as the woman orders. The hotel may be in the hands of the rebels and they may decide to set fire to it or blow it up before the peacekeepers arrive.

I try to stand but my leg has gone to sleep from being cramped up in the tiny wardrobe. I hobble to the small bed before falling on it. I massage my leg in an effort to restore circulation. Precious moments are spent before I feel ready to move. I'm about to open the door when I hear a commotion outside the room next door … my room. It is followed by the sound of splintering wood as the door to my own room is kicked in. I rush back into the wardrobe.

"She's not here! … Search the hotel! … Find the Everdeen girl or heads will roll!" comes a man's desperate voice.

The fact a man is on this 'women-only' floor indicates the strict rules imposed by the town fathers of Boulder Creek regarding the separation of unmarried men and women have been ignored. Apparently even the peacekeepers abide by the town council's edicts in this respect. Which means the people in the corridor are either powerful enough to disregard the rules or are desperate enough to risk the wrath of town mayor. Having met the mayor on our arrival earlier today I can't imagine anyone willingly crossing his path.

The door to this room flies open. The door wasn't locked; a fact that lures whoever enters the room into believing the room is empty. A proficient hunter would have noticed the slightly crumpled bedding or the damp patches on the floor where I'd entered still dripping water from my shower. But this searcher is in a rush and clearly lacks hunting experience. Ten seconds later he or she is gone.

I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding. This is like being in the Hunger Games arena once more and my self preservation instincts take over. I estimate I've a few minutes before this room will be searched again so I use the towel to finish drying myself and look in the wardrobe for some suitable clothes. I dare not return to my room for my own clothes as it will almost certainly be guarded.

The wardrobe holds a small collection of grey and white uniforms the hotel's maids and waitresses wear. The different sizes indicate the collection doesn't belong to any one person and they may well be spare uniforms, although that doesn't explain why they are in this room. I find an outfit that is more or less my size and I quickly dress. There are no undergarments and no shoes. The uniform is made of thick enough material to hide the absence of underclothes but the lack of shoes will be impossible to hide. Like all the poorer areas of Panem, many of the people of District 5 can't afford good shoes and walking barefoot is not uncommon. But not in this establishment. This is the finest hotel in Boulder Creek and the hotel's servants all wear shoes, albeit well worn ones.

Voices coming from my own bedroom confirm my earlier assessment and eliminate the option of recovering my own shoes. There's nothing for it. I'll have to hope no one notices my incomplete disguise.

The corridor is quiet and a risk a quick look. All clear. I can't chance walking in front of my room's door … or what remains of it … as those inside might notice me. I turn in the opposite direction towards the narrow rear staircase normally used by the servants. Without stopping I descend the stairs as quickly and as quietly as possible. I reach the ground floor without mishap and open the door at the bottom.

That's when my luck runs out. The door leads into what must be the servants' dining hall. The huge table must be big enough to seat twenty. My heart jumps when I realise the room isn't empty. At the sound of my entrance two men carrying large axes turn to face me.

"And where are you going, pretty maid?" says the taller of the two men.

Neither man seems unduly concerned by my unexpected arrival and both keep their weapons pointed at the floor.

"Er … I was in the shower and there was an explosion. Then there was shooting. I was too frightened to come down," I say.

"Well if you know what is good for you you'll join the others out the front without further delay," says the shorter man. "Follow me."

Any chance I had of escape is lost. It's only a short walk to the large garden where everyone is gathered. I see Peeta, Haymitch and Effie sitting by the ornamental pool. The area is well lit from a burning building opposite the hotel. The three of them are guarded by no fewer than six men. By contrast the servants and other guests are gathered on the grass some distance away. That area has only two or three lanterns to light it and those gathered there are less well supervised. My hopes rise that I may yet effect an escape. After what happened upstairs I am convinced escape is my best course of action. Once free I can try and rescue Peeta, Haymitch and Effie, or help the peacekeepers, who must surely arrive shortly, free them.

Yet the rebels don't seem in a rush to leave. Their main concern seems to be their inability to secure my capture. A problem that is quickly resolved when I'm betrayed by one of the hotel waiters.

"Captain Black! Katniss Everdeen is over here," he cries loudly.


	2. The escape

Part 2 – Boulder Creek township, District 5

I kick over the nearest lantern which causes enough disturbance among those around me to mask me from the approaching rebels. I make a bolt for the nearby bushes and quickly disappear into the darkness. The ground slopes steeply down through trees and bushes to the river below. I jump into the river and start to wade and swim across. The river is not particularly deep but it has a fast swirling current and the water is bitterly cold. It is difficult to find a good route through the large rocks in the river. These rocks presumably give the town its name, and at least provide good cover. I can hear cries of pursuit over the noise of the river but the search seems confined to one side of the river bank and adjoining woods. I risk hiding behind a large boulder in the middle of the river so I can stop and gather my breath.

My pursuers don't seem inclined to enter the river although they may have simply sent some of their number to the bridge upstream so they can cross and search the opposite bank. I have a few moments before they will reach the bridge and I need to plan what to do next. The opposite bank rises steeply before ending at the foot of a small cliff. The odds of me climbing the cliff unseen are not in my favour. My best route is to follow the river downstream for a while and hope I can find a good place to make landfall.

There are plenty of broken branches snagged in the rocks. I dislodge a sturdy branch nearby and use it as both cover and protection against being dashed against the rocks as I launch my makeshift craft into the main current. It takes a few seconds to catch the current but once under way all I can do is hold on. After a while the boulders thin out and the current steadies to a more even flow. I'm about two kilometres downstream from the hotel when I see a promising place to land. I part company with the branch and swim the ten metres to shore. I cross the stony bank and find shelter in the nearby trees. In warmer weather I would select one I can climb and scramble up onto a branch to hide and rest. But the night is cold, even for this time of year, and I need to shed my wet clothes before they chill me. I continue downstream working my way along the riverbank and am finally rewarded when I see a small hut at the edge of a clearing.

The hut is empty and looks as though it hasn't been used for some time. Nevertheless it seems solid enough and, although it contains minimal furniture, there is a stove and a small quantity of firewood. A drawer in the small table reveals some matches. I'm saved! I quickly light the stove and can soon feel the benefit of the heat. I peel off my wet dress and dry it and myself in front of the stove.

There is a risk the smoke will be seen by anyone searching for me, but I'll have to take that chance. The night is too cold to go without the fire. When the room is warmer and my body is dry I lie on the wooden board that forms the top of the bed frame. There's no mattress but I've slept on harder surfaces before.

As I rest I try to make sense of what as happened over the last 24 hours. I recall seeing my betrayer when we arrived this morning. He seemed to pay an excessive amount of interest in us. At the time I put it down to the celebrity status Peeta and I have acquired during our tour of the districts. Not that I have welcomed all the attention and I've been content for Peeta to take the limelight. He is much better at handling all the fawning and adoration.

Our stop at Boulder Creek is an unscheduled break in our itinerary. The next scheduled stop should have been sixty kilometres further on at Stonebridge. But Effie told us we had been instructed to make a last minute change to our schedule. 'Operational requirements' was the only reason she could extract out of our two taciturn bodyguards. The eight peacekeepers who escorted us from the train to the hotel were equally uncommunicative. Only the hotel proprietor seemed keen to welcome the celebrity guests suddenly thrust upon him. The brute who passes for the town mayor was civil to us, although I suspect he would prefer us to be elsewhere. At the moment I too would prefer to be elsewhere. From the moment we arrived in Boulder Creek the warning signs have been there that something is not right.

Peeta and I had spent the afternoon giving speeches at the local school and the town hall. It has become our regular routine on this Victory Tour, although today's audiences had a scant few hours notice of our arrival. Most seemed genuinely pleased to see us in person rather than on the district-wide television broadcast they had expected. We were at the local school when a girl's question alerts me to a fact the normally reliable Effie had not mentioned. Boulder Creek was Foxface's home town. Her family lives here.

None of the officials we met earlier had told us; which on reflection strikes me as strange. No grieving family is happy at being pushed into the limelight, and some try to avoid meeting the victors. After all, the victor is alive because their child or sibling died. But the government officials invariably force attendance. It's all part of the Capitol's plan to humiliate and control the districts. But then it occurs to me that Foxface's family is probably in Stonebridge expecting to meet Peeta and I there, so ironically will miss us.

To my shame I know nothing about Foxface's family. I could excuse that by saying we were deliberately told nothing about the other tributes after the reaping. We were discouraged from revealing details about ourselves during training in case the information was used as a weapon against us in the arena. But I could have enquired about her family afterwards. Foxface was a cunning opponent and Peeta and my part in her death from the poisonous berries had been unintentional. But a parent, or brother or sister, might not see it like that.

Tiredness eventually gets the better of me and at some point I fall asleep. I wake several hours later when the fire has almost burned out and the chill air invades my den. It is still dark and I chance throwing some more of the firewood into the stove. The smoke from the fire will be visible once morning arrives and I'll need to be away from here by then. Fortunately my clothes are dry enough to wear and I quickly dress. I welcome the extra warmth they provide.

In the half-light from the stove I search for anything else that may be useful. There's no food and, apart from a blunt pocket knife, I can't find anything useful. As the warmth radiates from the rekindled fire I rest on the bed once more. Despite my predicament I doze off again and when I wake there is early morning daylight coming through the small window. I open my eyes with a start. Who threw the blanket over me? Is that cooking food I smell? I vaguely remember briefly waking when a cold draught of air wafted across me but I was so tired I thought nothing of it and went back to sleep. To my horror I realise that could have been a fatal mistake. I sit up with a jolt.

"Ah! You're awake at last. I hope you like eggs for breakfast. There's not much else on offer I'm afraid," says the young man busy cooking over the stove.

"Er … Yes … thanks," I reply. "Who are you? How did you find me?"

"My friends call me Robin. And finding you wasn't difficult. My pa's farm is not far away and the smoke from your fire drifted in that direction. When I woke this morning I noticed the smoke and came to investigate."

"Carrying eggs and a blanket?"

"Ha ha ha! No! I returned for those when I saw you. I presumed you would be cold and hungry. This old hut hasn't been used for months although pa has kept it repaired until recently. But no longer I'm afraid; you may be the last person to sleep in it Katniss Everdeen."


	3. The farm

Part 3 – Red Cliff farm, Boulder Creek

I stand up and move to help my unexpected host. He is about my age and despite the strange circumstances of our meeting, he seems friendly enough. I take a few moments to straighten my hair and make myself presentable. Not that he seems to notice, which for some reason irks me a bit.

"Is your father going to mind me being here?" I ask.

"If he finds out I suspect he'll mind a great deal. But he's away at the moment so that's fortunate for all three of us. I get a charming guest to entertain; you get somewhere to hide and pa finally gets the local sheriff off his back.

"How do you know I'm hiding?"

"Why else would you be sleeping in here when I'm sure there's a more comfortable bed at the hotel in town."

"Well, I suppose I am hiding. There was trouble in town last night and armed men seized the hotel."

"Armed men? Who? Peacekeepers?"

"No. I don't know who they were. They blew up the building opposite the hotel. I heard shots and saw two men carrying large axes. They were lead by someone they called 'Captain Black'."

"Old Pete's warehouse? Who would want to blow that up when three men could probably knock it down by leaning on it? It's more likely Pete was storing explosives for the quarry and didn't store them right. And Captain Black is our fire chief. What makes you believe it wasn't an accident and the fire crew were simply evacuating the hotel to make sure everyone is safe?"

Suddenly I feel very foolish. Last night's events fit what he's just described perfectly. No … not quite!

"What about the shots I heard? Firearms are illegal and I didn't imagine hearing shots."

"This is mountain country. There are bears and wolves in these woods. Most of those living outside town have special licences to hold firearms for protection. What you heard could have been ammunition stored in the warehouse exploding in the fire. Another reason why they would have wanted to evacuate the hotel."

"Oh!" is all I can say to what now seems like an extremely stupid act on my part caused by my over-active imagination. "I suppose I had better get back then."

"That may be difficult at the moment."

"Why?" I ask, suddenly feeling wary.

"It snowed heavily last night. The road will be blocked."

"Then I'll follow the river back to town."

"In bare feet? You'll freeze to death before you get half way. I'll take you up to the house after breakfast and we'll see if a pair of my sister's boots will fit you. And if the telephone is working you can call your friends and check everything is alright."

"Sister? You didn't mention your sister before. Is she up at the house?"

"No … no, she isn't," he says with a melancholy sigh.

Before I can ask more he serves the fried eggs onto two plates and hands a plate to me. I hold my curiosity in check while I satisfy my hunger. He watches me as I devour the eggs. When I've finished I feel a bit guilty for not displaying the table manners Effie has painstakingly taught me. But eggs for breakfast are a rarity in the districts and the Capitol hasn't changed me so much that I don't value a treat.

"I would have fetched more eggs had I realised you liked them so much," he smiles when we've both finished. I look sheepish, regretting my poor table manners. "If you've finished I'll take you up to the house."

He stacks the plates and shuts the grill so the fire will die out. I move to help clear away but he clearly intends to return for the plates later. He opens the door and the temperature suddenly drops by several degrees. I get my first glimpse of the deep snow that has fallen overnight.

"I'll carry you if you'll allow me," he offers. I decline his offer feeling my pride is more important than keeping warm. It's a decision I regret after ten paces but my stubbornness refuses to give in at first. Fortunately common sense eventually prevails and I let him carry me the final hundred metres to the house. The house is a modest sized farmhouse with a stout wire mesh fence all round it.

"The fence keeps the wolves away from the livestock," Robin says pointing to the barn next to the house.

We enter the house and he gently sets me down in a chair before fetching a towel so I can dry my feet and work some circulation back into them. He goes outside for some wood and lights the fire in the room we are in. As he works on the fire and I dry my feet I realise we are alone in this house. For some reason I had expected someone else to be here and it comes as a bit of a shock to realise the two of us are alone. It dawns on me that no one knows where I am. Am I safe? Robin senses my tension because when he turns to look at me I feel as though he has the eyes of a wolf about to devour a lamb.

"Well there's a turn up for the book. The famous Katniss Everdeen is wondering whether she's done the right thing coming here," he laughs.

"You said you had a telephone. I'd like to phone my friends now, please," I say as calmly as I can.

"Sure. The telephone is on the table over there. Dial 26 for the hotel, otherwise try 0 for the local telephone operator."

I walk to the telephone as casually as I can. It's a much older model than the one I have in my house in the Victor's Village in District 12. I pick up the handset and dial 26. I'm relieved to hear a ringing sound followed by a voice on the other end.

"Hello. This is Katniss Everdeen. Can you connect me to Effie Trinket please."

"Er … yes, Miss Everdeen. One moment. I'll see if I can find her. … I'm sorry Miss Everdeen. Miss Trinket is not in the hotel at present. I'll ask her to call you when she returns. What number can she reach you on?"

"Is Peeta Mellark or Haymitch Abernathy there?" I say, desperate to talk to a familiar voice.

"No … Sorry, Miss Everdeen. The two gentlemen checked out an hour ago. … Miss Trinket said she would return later to collect her things. What do you wish us to do with your things?"

"What? Oh … Effie will know what to do. Ask her to call me when she returns. I'm at … at … where am I?" I turn to ask Robin.

"Red Cliff Farm … the phone number is 103."

"I'm at Red Cliff Farm. The number is 103," I repeat to the hotel clerk.

"Oh … of course. I understand. I'll ask Miss Trinket to call you as you request."

"Understand what?" I ask. Too late. The call has been disconnected.


	4. The dream

Part 4 – Red Cliff farm, Boulder Creek

Robin waits patiently for me to decide what I'm going to do next. That telephone call didn't go as I had planned. By all accounts Haymitch, Effie and Peeta are resuming the Victory Tour without me. I'm not certain what to make of it. I had assumed they would at least spend the morning looking for me, but it appears not. I know Effie is a stickler for keeping everything on schedule, but this is ridiculous. Am I so unimportant that the Tour simply carries on without me?

"Why would the hotel clerk say she understood why I would be here?" I ask focusing on what must be the least important part of my telephone conversation.

"She assumed you would be visiting to pay your respects," replies Robin.

"Huh?"

"My sister. Finch … You were one who discovered her body … In the Hunger Games arena."

I let out an involuntary yelp. Foxface! Now Robin says her real name I remember hearing Caesar Flickerman calling her Finch during the final interviews. This is her house. Robin is her brother. I bury my face in my hands and trying hard to keep control.

"I'm sorry … I didn't know this was her house … That you were her brother … I didn't mean to intrude … I'll leave at once," I stammer.

"There's no need to leave. Pa may feel bitter towards you but I don't. It's the Capitol who are responsible for the tributes' deaths, not you or Peeta. Finch would agree if she was alive."

I must be in shock. I don't seem to be able to say the right words. I may not have directly killed Foxface … Finch … but I didn't do anything to help her either. I now realise that surviving the arena is only a prelude to the torment that follows. Facing the accusing looks of friends and relatives of the tributes who died is every bit as hard as being in the arena. Is this why Haymitch finds his comfort in a bottle?

Robin must sense my anxiety. A cruel man would avenge his sister's death by taking advantage of my guilt. But he is true to his word and shows no bitterness towards me. Instead he fetches a warm drink for us both and sits in the chair next to me.

"Shall I tell you about her?" he asks.

I nod, not trusting my voice to say a simple sentence. I'm not certain knowing more about Finch is really going to help but anything is better than sitting here in an awkward silence. Robin stands up and briefly leaves the room. He returns carrying a large folder which he opens and hands to me.

"These are Finch's drawings. As you can see, she was very gifted."

I look at the twenty or so drawings. All of wild animals sketched in their natural habitat. Robin is right, Finch was a gifted artist. Now she's dead. Robin continues before I become overcome in grief and guilt.

"She could sneak through the forest so quietly that even the most timid animals didn't notice her. That's how she could make her drawings so lifelike. Since ma died she would go off on her own for days at a time, particularly when pa hit the whiskey bottle. If he was drunk she would move into the hut until he sobered up. Pa wouldn't hurt us but Finch couldn't stand his foul language when he over indulged. I think pa tried to ease off the alcohol but ma's death hit him hard and now Finch is gone I don't know what he'll do. It took all my persuasion to get him to go to Stonebridge with my brothers to attend the Victory Tour celebrations. If he hadn't gone the government would have thrown us off our farm and put pa in prison. I was allowed to stay to look after the farm."

"You should have Finch's drawings put on display somewhere. They're too good to leave hidden. She deserves recognition for her work," I say, finding my voice at last.

"The real tribute to her life will be an end to President Snow's regime and the evil of the Hunger Games. That's what she dreamed of ever since she was old enough to understand the meaning of the Treaty of the Treason. She even talked of starting a rebellion here in District 5 but pa put a stop to her ideas. Ma died for harbouring such thoughts and pa wouldn't risk giving the peacekeepers cause to take Finch away for the same reason."

"President Snow once told me that Panem is more fragile than it appears. If there are people in every town in every district wanting an end to the oppression then it only needs a spark to trigger an uprising."

"And what will you do when that spark catches fire? There are many who look to you as a symbol of the resistance. Are you up to the task?"

Before I can answer Robin's question the telephone rings. Robin answers and a few seconds later hands me the phone.

"Hello?" I answer.

"What insane thought passed through that empty space where your brain is supposed to be, made you run off like that. Do you realise I've had to reschedule all of today's programme because you're not here," fumes Effie. I can see I'm in for another uncomfortable lecture.

"I thought …" I start, but get no further.

"Thought! Thought! No, you did not think, Katniss! Fortunately Peeta is prepared to cover for your absence in Stonebridge this afternoon. Now get you sorry backside over to the hotel by four o'clock so we can join the train on its return from Stonebridge. I presume you can manage that?"

"Um … The road's blocked with snow … I've no shoes," I stutter.

Effie's response is a tirade of invectives that make me feel like a naughty schoolgirl. Finally I snap.

"Don't talk to me like that Effie Trinket! I'm not six years old. If I want to pay my respects to a grieving family and spend some time with a friend then that's my business. Stonebridge is the last stop in District 5 and we're not due in District 4 until tomorrow afternoon. Make the train wait until I can get to Boulder Creek. If not, then you can complete the Victory Tour without me."

I slam the phone down before Effie can answer. Robin removes the phone before I am tempted to rip the cable from the wall. He and I stand facing each other, neither knowing what to say. Then he breaks out laughing. It is so infectious that I start laughing too.

"Wow! I'm glad I didn't burn the eggs this morning. I dread to think what you would have done to me," he says.

The tension that was threatening to overwhelm me evaporates. My long-running fear of the threats made by President Snow before this Victory Tour started; my guilt at running away from the hotel; and the uneasiness I had felt about being in Finch's home, are pushed to the back of my mind. Instead I notice Robin in a whole new light. A light that makes me realise he is attracted to me … and I to him.


	5. The seduction

Part 5 – Red Cliff farm, Boulder Creek

I'm invaded by those strange feelings I sometimes get when I'm alone with a boy. I give what I intend as a coquettish look but there is only a muted response from Robin. That's hardly his fault. A minute ago I gave a display of Katniss at her most catty and I'm looking dishevelled after my adventures of the last twelve hours.

"Is there somewhere I can refresh myself. I feel a bit grubby," I say.

"Yes … yes, of course. I should have offered you a chance to clean up before. You can use Finch's room … it's opposite the bathroom. I'll go find the storage box with her clothes. Perhaps something of hers will fit you."

I use the bathroom and feel much better after I've had a wash. I find a hairbrush in Finch's room and give my hair a good brush. If I had more time I would braid it but I decide to leave it in a simple ponytail. I'm putting the finishing touches to my hair when Robin knocks on the bedroom door. I ask him to come in.

"Wow! You scrub up nice … I'm afraid there are only a few dresses left. Pa gave most of Finch's clothes to the orphanage. But I've had better luck with some boots. Finch's winter boots were still in the outhouse. I'll warm them by the fire before you try them on."

He lifts a stray lock of my hair and tucks it in place behind my ear. The thrill that rushes through me from his unexpected touch is indescribable. I weakly smile at his attentions hoping to mask the turmoil within me. I try to divert his attention by looking at the dresses. Unfortunately it is easy to see they are too small for me. Actually, it isn't a dress I need but underclothes, but I can't think of a tactful way of saying that to Robin without giving the wrong impression. In the end I politely say I'll manage with the clothes I have on, but the boots will be greatly appreciated.

We return downstairs and sit by the fire. We talk for some time about Finch and her beliefs in a free Panem. Robin shares those beliefs but admits he lacks the passion that Finch had for righting wrongs. If it came to an uprising Robin would fight beside his friends, but he isn't the sort of person to lead or inspire others.

I realise Robin is watching me intently. It's not the puppy dog adoration I've seen Peeta put on from time to time, nor the partner-in-crime look Gale gives me when we are out hunting. Robin's attention stirs a more powerful reaction within me, but my attempt at a seductive response can only be described as amateurish.

"Is Peeta likely to mind you being here with me?" asks Robin, suddenly seeming concerned his overtures might be treading on another boy's territory. No … I correct myself … Robin doesn't care if Peeta is offended … he's indirectly asking me if I'm comfortable with what both of us realise is about to happen.

"I'm sure he would, but don't believe everything you see on television. While I like Peeta and will probably end up marrying him, it will be an arranged marriage that's part of President Snow's puppet theatre," I reply. "It's the penalty I must pay for not dying in the Hunger Games arena.

"The poisonous berries! Yes, I can see how threatening to deny the Capitol its sole victor might be interpreted as an act of defiance. Would you both really have gone through with it?"

"Yes," I say without hesitation. It's one question I've played through my mind over and over again and no matter how I phrase the question the answer is the same. I know that Peeta and I would have swallowed those berries that would have meant instant death for both of us. Two victors or no victors was the choice we presented Seneca Crane. As head Gamemaker he chose the two victors option and later paid for his choice with his life.

"I thought so. Finch would have done the same in those circumstances. She could never kill another person, but using her own life to make a political statement was another matter. Some thought her weak and cowardly, but I know differently. Courage comes in many forms and not all are clearly labelled. The courage she had might not be obvious to some, but it was there none the less."

Before I realise it Robin has come to sit beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. This is the watershed. I could reject his touch and end his advances at a stroke by walking over to the chair. Or I could simply sit frozen like a lamb faced by a wolf. Sit and allow him to do as he may. Or I could respond to the emotions flooding through me and welcome his attentions. I want him to touch me. Why? I've no idea why. It's not as though Peeta or Gale have never touched me. But my relationship with Peeta and Gale comes with responsibilities. A certain amount of baggage that taints the intimacy of my being with either of them.

With Robin there will be no expectations for the future. A short interlude where nature can take its course without commitment. Providing we don't go too far! I'm not so absorbed in satisfying my urges to make that mistake.

"Do all the girls who visit your house get this treatment?" I ask, again trying to sound seductive but somehow making it sound like a complaint. Haymitch is right; I'm not the least bit seductive. But Robin acts as though I am.

"Only those who are famous and have been on television," he replies in a gentle whisper into my ear.

Before I can react he kisses me on my neck. I gasp at the sensation. His hand on my shoulder moves to gently play with my hair. The feeling is electric. I turn my head and find his lips with mine. He's not the first boy I've kissed but he's the first to evoke such strong feelings inside me. He senses my turmoil and, with the experience he obviously possesses, breaks our kiss after a while and gives me time to compose myself.

Then, as if by magic, he senses I'm back in control of myself and resumes our entanglement with another kiss.

"You're a wicked man to take advantage of me," I say with half-hearted sincerity.

"I'll stop if you wish," he whispers into my ear.

Now would be the right time to stop our coupling before something happens I might regret. Only I don't want to stop yet and I sense Robin will happily take this as far as I allow. I don't care whether Robin is motivated by lust for me or revenge for his sister's death. The nights I've shared my bed with Peeta on this Victory Tour have opened my eyes to the possibilities. But Peeta and I share our bed solely to quell the nightmares that invade both of us, not for what Robin and I can offer each other here and now.


	6. The train

Part 6 – Victory Tour train, en route to District 4

"Seducer," I say with a dreamy smile as I wake the next morning.

"What did you say?" comes a familiar voice. Octavia, one of the team of stylists with me on this tour.

I sigh. My disappointment is real. A truly fantastic dream broken. A complete change from all the usual nightmares that haunt me. Not that Octavia seems to mind discovering me like this. My stylists think nothing of bursting in on me at any time of the day or night. There's no part of my body they haven't scrubbed, polished or otherwise examined. At first I minded their intrusion into my private time but now I simply ignore the interruption.

The only time they won't intrude is when I'm sharing my bed with Peeta. Which is most nights, but not the last couple of nights. The fact they believe my wild dreams when I'm alone are about Peeta works to my advantage. I don't want to admit to anyone that my private fantasies don't always include the man President Snow requires me to marry.

"Effie wants to see us all in ten minutes so she can go through the revised schedule. The delay in District 5 has cost us a day. But I'm sure Effie has that in hand. Now what outfit did Cinna want you to wear for our arrival in District 4?"

I roll out of bed and, without bothering to retrieve my discarded nightdress, follow Octavia into the huge walk-in wardrobe. There are still half of Cinna's outfits remaining to be worn. Several are set aside for our time in the Capitol at the beginning of next week. Now we are approaching the inner districts the distance to travel between venues becomes much less and the speeches and functions more frequent.

I decide to put on a comfortable lounging suit for now and change into more formal attire when we are closer to District 4. My stylists don't usually approve of this practise as it means delaying a start to their work and leaves them little margin for rectifying any major disasters with my beautification. But we have reached an understanding that seems to work for us. I don't fidget or object while my stylists work and they don't demand I get ready hours before I need to.

On the other hand Effie and I have an uneasy relationship based on a mutual belief the other has her priorities all wrong. Despite that we can manage a civil conversation, if only because we both know we need to rely on each other to make it through this tour. Everyone's faith in Effie is justified when she tells us the revised schedule. I have to admit she has done a great job in rearranging such a complex itinerary. Peeta catches up with me when Effie finishes.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks. "Effie refused to let me see you for the last couple of days. She said you've been unwell."

"Er … Yes … Thanks … I'm still a bit tired … um … just time of the month stuff … nothing serious," I reply wondering what lie Effie has spun to the others to cover for my unexplained 24 hour absence and equally strange reappearance last night.

Haymitch must have been in on the deception while Peeta and my stylists were not. As far as they are aware I was closeted in my compartment two hours before I actually boarded the train at a remote wayside halt in the dead of night. I haven't told Haymitch how I came to be at that halt, nor the identity of the mysterious figure standing in the shadows. Even Effie knows only a few details. I'll no doubt have to tell them at some point but neither has pushed the issue so far.

When the train stopped at our midnight rendezvous, Haymitch helped me board the train and escorted me to my compartment without the caustic comments I had expected. Effie wasn't there even though she was the one who made the arrangements with the train crew. As for our bodyguards they merely agreed to the plan without objection. They didn't have much option. It would hardly look good if it became generally known I had disappeared from their sight for 24 hours. My taste of freedom.

It was not long after Haymitch left me that Effie called by my compartment. I made my peace with her. I doubt she approves of what I did but seems to understand my fears that lead me to bolt in the first place. Of course, what happened between Robin and I is a secret I will take to my grave. It doesn't matter to me whether Robin will look back on yesterday and regard me as another trophy to his list of feminine conquests; another notch on his belt. He filled a need I didn't realise I had, and in that respect I am guilty of taking advantage of him as much as he did of me.

Does this change anything? No … not to what I must now do to protect those I love. If anything I realise the stakes are much higher than I previously thought. But yes … it in a subtle way it has changed me as a person … I don't feel guilty for surviving the Hunger Games any more. Learning more about Finch and her belief in a free Panem has made me realise that no matter how hard I try to comply with President Snow's demands it will never be enough. Sometime, somehow, the people of the districts will rise up against the yoke that oppresses them. But how do I protect my family and those I love? That's a question to which I still have no answer.

I return to my compartment to try and relax before my stylists invade my space and start preparing me for my next glamorous parade. I walk through the wardrobe of Cinna's beautiful outfits. Despite the beauty of this collection the outfit that holds a truly special meaning to me is a cheap white and grey maid's uniform. But I know I'll have to have it returned to the Boulder Creek hotel tomorrow.

Fortunately I've another memento of my visit to Red Cliff farm. On my right middle finger sits a ring. It belonged to Finch. Robin insisted I have it in memory of his sister and my duty to help realise her belief in a free Panem. I just hope I'm worthy of such a weighty responsibility.

Yes, Robin has well and truly seduced me. Not only in a physical sense but he has made me believe that things can change and I have a part to play.


End file.
